


Old Birb Man Gets An Apprentice (working title)

by the_Quill_of_the_Goblin_King



Category: DreamSMP, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Antartic Empire, Family Fluff, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, I am not strong enough for angst, I jsut really like found family, No Angst, No Romance, Please I just want to read about loosely medievalish comunitary magical slice of life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:35:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29089161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_Quill_of_the_Goblin_King/pseuds/the_Quill_of_the_Goblin_King
Summary: After years traveling the world as a weapon of war, Technoblade joins his old teacher Philza in retirement. As he adjusts to his newly peaceful life in the close knit mountain town and learns to see himself outside of war, Philza takes in a local half-enderman as his new apprentice.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 37





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry the first chapter just said "this is a test" for a while, I had the entire chapter written and my laptop crashed

  
Technoblade stood before the sturdy wooden door of the cabin, the sun had long set, the moonlight reflected in the snow and the air was still, the whole world was holding it's breath, unmoving, expecting. He had been standing there for a while, his cloak and tattered bag weighted on his shoulders and the cold had made it's way through his robes and into the bones. His horse sneeked, breaking th stillness. He finally moved, sighed and knocked on the door. Soon enough he heard steps from behind the door, then chains coming undone, and with a loud _creak_ the door opened.

-Techno, you made it! I'm very happy to see you!- Though he could not see more than his sillouette, he could hear the warm grin in his voice. He dropped his bag and sword on the snow and launched forwards for a hug. 

\- Hello, Phil. I missed this.

\- Are you alright, mate? - Techno buried his face on Phil's shoulders and made a vague sound for an answer. - Come in, it's freezing outside, get it, standing in the cold won't do you good, come in. 

\- Maybe I should take the bag inside and tie the horse first. 

\- Maybe, but I can do that alone, get inside. 

\- But Phil! - but the old man had already went past him and was unloading the horse. -Fine then I'll just take my own things inside, I guess. Carl, you better behave!

\- You named your horse Carl? - Phil yelled from the stables. - Get in, mate, your brain's freezing. 

\- Phil, I can, I can think just fine, but whatever, sure, I will go inside. 

-Thank you, Techno, thank you very much. Don't close behind you! 

___

The fire painted warm shadows in the kitchen, and the smell of soup and toasting bread filled the house. Techno sat before it on a wooden stool, bundled up in blankets, only his head and hands sticking out of the vague potato form. Philza paced arround the house, bringing blankets and pillows into the room, and stopping by only to mix the cauldron of soup with a wooden spoon. He looked older than he was, his wings were puffier and grayer than Techno recalled, though the marks on his feathers were still a deep black that shined in every colour when light hit it just right. He did not look unkept or disvellished, his robe flowed behind him, as a king's cape, his posture was still one of a duelist and his steps were brisk and almost silent. His hair was golden, though some sliver strands had began to show, and reached down to his middle back, tied in a braid.

\- The storm was raging this morning, I was terrified I'd have to go find you inside a block of ice in the mountains. The butcher would have had so much fun!

\- I would make a delicious steak, I do agree. 

\- You have enough blankets there, mate? - Phil started to rearrange the pillows and blankets. 

\- Yes, Phil, I'm under three blankets, I couldn't move if I wanted to. 

\- You're forged in soulfire and all, you're from the Nether, you don't do well with cold.

\- Bruh, I do okay with the cold, this is slander. 

\- Oh so I could take your blankets away? 

\- If you want to, sure, I guess, if that's the proof you need go ahead. 

\- Do not lie to me, kid. - Philza pointed the wooden spoon to Techno's forehead. - I fed you, clothed you, trained you and loved you for many long years, and you are terrible with cold. 

\- Well then I think I should just move to the desert, thank you for the blankets Phil, I will now be going to the desert. - He began to get up. 

\- Oi, oi, no need to go that far. - Philza handed him a big wooden bowl filled with soup, and a loaf of bread. - Here, have, stay, will you? 

Techno made some sounds that wanted to mean "Well, if you insist, yeah, I don't have much else to do anyway, sure, I can stay I guess, since you're asking." but just sounded like grunts and hurried noodle soup slurping. 

\- Alright, mate, I have been dying to ask you. How did you get a hound army? We got news in spring that _a mighty beast with the sharpest of tusks and an battalion of hellhounds from the pits of Hades itself had stormed the local Lord of the Mountains castle, leaving a trail of blue blood and opening the treasure._ Among the town they weren't sure how much truth there was to it but I immidiately knew it was you. You've made me proud, boy. - Phil ruffled Techno's hair.

More rushed sounds of slurping were the only answer. 

\- Alright, slow down, you're not going to start worrying me, are you? 

\- No, no, I'm just really hungry. Can I get another bowl? - Techno took a deep breath and handed Phil the bowl.

\- Sure thing, but first, your story as payment, and don't be cheap with the details!

And so, the evening went on and the moon dissapeared behind the horizon, the stars the only light in the skies. The cabin filled with the wildest tales a warrior could tell, and the dry and melodic laughter of the two old friends. The fire burned birght and became embers, and exhaustion settled into their bodies, they craved sleep. 

\- Alright, mate, you sleep there, in the improvised bed by the fireside.

\- Oh, that was a bed! I thought your bird instincts had kicked in and you were making a bird nest for your bird wife. 

\- Well that's just rude! - Philza's could barely contain his laughter behind an exaggerated frown. - Since you don't like it you can sleep outside. 

\- No, no, I like it a lot, it seems very comfortable. Can I keep the fire on? 

\- That was the plan, I'll feed it some new wood and then hit the hay myself. 

Techno buried himself inside the nest, covering up with the clunky quilt, only his head poking out of the covers. Philza chucked a few more logs into the fire, blew out all but one candle, and headed for the door. 

\- Gnight, mate. 

\- Phil, Phil, wait, before you go, wait. 

\- Yes? 

\- Can you tell me a bedside tale? 

\- I am very sleepy, so get to sleep or by my ghost I tell you, you'll wish that you were dead. 

\- Thank you so much, that was an excellent tale. Have a good sleep, Philza Minecraft. 

\- Gnight, Technoblade, I missed you. 

___

It was later, but the sky was the same dark blue it had been when Philza fell asleep, as the old man walked into the kitchen, candle in hand. The fire hadn't gone out, so he set water to boil and browsed his cabinets silently for the right flowers, teas and leaves. He mixed them and prepared the teapot, when the water began to boil he filled the teapot with it, and set it aside to rest. Then and only then, he dared make a sound. 

\- Rise and shine, mate, we have places to be and much to do. - He stood above the pigling, poking him in the cheek. 

\- What the fuck is wrong with you, Phil, the sun isn't up so I aren't either. - His eyes were still closed. 

\- I will yoink your blanket if I have to. And I made you that one tea you like, with a lot of honey. 

\- You can't buy me with good tea, old man. 

\- Well then, the blanket it is! - He smiled as he tugged on the quilt. - C'mon, I want to show you something, c'mon!

\- You are not convincing, but that smell sure is. Fine, fine, but I'm not getting out of the blanket yet. 

\- Atta boy! Here, - He handed Techno a mug filled with a sweet and rich liquid. - have a fix, while I pack a copule things. And don't stall, I want to get going soon. 

\- The sun's not out, Phil, where are you even planning to go?

\- Shush, drink up and get dressed, there's thick socks in the basket by the cabinet. 

___

The way up the mountain wasn't hard, but when they reached the top the horizon was painted in clear blues and soft yellows. 

\- Look west, trust me. 

The two friends sat side by side, atop the mountain, Philza broke a loaf of bread and passed one of the halves to Techno, he cut cheese and gave it to Phil, and they ate in silence, as the sun rose behind them. The golden light lit the two other mountains, covered in snow, and slowly flowed down into the valley, painting the skies in bright pinks, oranges, greens, the few lonely clouds that went by shined bright as if they were magical flames. The light began to shine on the town, slowly touching the mossy rooftops and stone paved streets. The town began to wake under their feet, the streets began to fill and the toll of the bells ressonated through the valley. As the light reached the town border and began to caress the empty fields, Philza finally spoke:

\- This is what I wanted to show you. You arrived long after dark, so I figured you hadn't seen the town. I don't think words can fit what I mean to tell you, but I know how hard it is to unlearn who we've been, impossible I'd say. This valley is quiet, filled with good people, it has felt small at times, you and me have seen the farthest of roads, but it grows on you. When I first saw the town it was a morning much like this one, I was tired and hurt, but seeing the break of dawn from up here, it made me feel weightless, timeless for just a moment. I have grown to love the people who nursed me back to health, and I found my way to help them back. I truly hope you will like them, the people, the place, the quiet. What I mean is, I'm very happy you came to find me again, mate. - Techno made no sound, but there was a smile on his face and, though he'd deny it, tears as well. - Also, tomorrow is the market, I have to set up shop, there will be goods from all the nearby towns, the townsfolk will be all there, I could use your help to run some errands, I just... You don't have to come if you don't want, I think you would like it, but it's your call entirely, really.

\- Hey, Phil. - Techno put his arm arround his friend's wings, throwing his cloak over him as well. - Thank you for bringing me here. I think I'd like to come to this market of yours tomorrow. 


	2. Market day

-Wake up, mate, it’s market day! We have shit to do!

Techno slowly opened his eyes. He was still on the kitchen floor, coddled in Phil’s nest-like improvised bed. A soft glow emanated from the fireplace, keeping at bay the darkness of the outside. The sun was not up yet, and wouldn’t be for a while. -

Phil, I’ll fucking kill you.- his voice was sleepy and pasty, his mouth dry.

-Ah-ah-ah! You swore off violence, remember?

-I’d rather be an oathbreaker than have you wake me up before the sun every day.

-Not every day! You can sleep through dawn in the summer. Now, quit whining. Gruel? - For a moment, Techno sincerely contemplated torture as an option. Anything to wipe the smile of enjoyment the old man was getting from his suffering.

-Is there anything else? Any other option you can give me? Cardboard maybe?

-Fuck’s sake, we’ll get you something nice at the market.

-Fine then, but make it a small portion. - His voice dying down as he saw Phil pour way too much of the questionably beige coloured thick paste inside a wooden bowl.

-Here you go, mate. Now, when you’re finished, you go to the back and take care of the animals, yes? The chicken food is the scraps barrel under the outside stairs, for the cows and horses just move the hay around the manger a bit, the pitchfork should be right by the door. Oh, and check if the drinking pond is frozen over and break it. I’ll be in the back, packing everything from the forge, if you need me just yell. - Phil left his bowl on the counter. - If you finish before me, wash those, will you? - He made a vague gesture towards the sink and marched off into the corridor.

Techno sat there, eating his dull bowl of porridge, contemplating whether or not he should change out of his sleeping gown before dealing with Phil’s assorted fauna. Anything to stall and avoid dishes duty, he finally decided, and changed into an old but still dignified set of pants and a shirt. He had the good judgment to leave the fancy cloak and boots for later, borrowing a pair of Phil’s uncomfortable wooden shoes. He even wasted a good five minutes braiding his hair, and reflecting on the lengths he’d go to just not deal with the aftermath of breakfast.

When he began to feel the guilt creep up he headed to the back, stopping to check out his reflection on Phil’s old chestplate. In that small wooden house, the shining piece of armor was a relic from a long gone time, it had rained a lot since they had first met. But he had already stalled enough, he shook his head and opened the door. The dimly lit eastern sky heralded the sun, as meandering lazy clouds passed by, barely visible under the first lights of the day, the world was silent and covered in a soft layer of new snow, and it was colder than Techno had anticipated. He had always hated the cold, but he dismissed the idea of going back inside and fetching the cloak.

The stable was a few meters away from the house, probably to avoid the smell of manure seeping into the bedroom. It’s thick stone walls were covered in the inside with wood, to keep the cold out, and though it wasn’t big, it had plenty of space for the two cows, Phil’s horse, Carl and about 6 chickens. He wasn’t sure about the chickens, they moved a lot. It wasn’t a Nether’s night, but it wasn’t freezing cold inside either. He moved the hay around in the tall manger and dumped the contents of the scraps barrel in the chicken feeder. After scratching Carl’s ears, he climbed the outside stairs and picked three fresh eggs. Or at least he hoped they were fresh eggs. He didn’t bother to check the pond for ice, though, it was warm enough for that not to be a concern. He tried to remember if Phil had said anything about opening the door for the animals but, unable to recall anything, he walked back and to the forge.

-Hey, Phil, uhhhh - The old man didn’t even turn around, he was crouched checking the drawers from what looked like a fine work bench.

-Oh, you’re done already?

-Yeah, I found three eggs.

-Good, good. Was there enough hay?

-Yeah, I think so, yeah. Should I let the animal door open?

-Is it cold out?

-Freezing.

-Then fuck no. Go leave the eggs in the pantry and fetch me Whorsey, will you?

-Fetch you who now?

-Whorsey, my horse, I’m not going to carry the grindstone on my back.

-And then you dare tell me off for calling my noble steed Carl.

-Shut your mouth and move your arse.

-Fine, fine, boss.

Techno began walking down to the kitchen. He hadn’t found where the pantry was yet so he figured he’d just leave the eggs on the counter and hope they didn’t fall to their demise. As he made his way back outside, Phil yelled from the forge.

-Oi, kid, was there ice in the pond?

-I don’t think so.

-You don’t think so? You’re missing your eyes now?

-Eh, I didn’t really check.

-Well go back and do that! Fucks sake, I have to do everything around here.

The pigman walked back through the cold and into the stables. He prepared Whoresey with a saddle and some side bags, and with a sigh he walked over to the pond. His instincts had been correct, the water was fine and liquid, though thin pieces of ice floated scattered. He broke a couple just to be safe and, holding the horse by the reins, he walked back into the forge. Not wanting to let a horse around the house he opted to go through the main door. Phil waited for him, bags packed, wearing a weathered leather apron over his usual green wool tunic, hair tied back and holding a grindstone.

-Techno did you go out like this? You’re going to catch a cold. Or freeze to your death, whatever comes first. Come here,we’ll get you some proper overshirt. - He left the grindstone on the workbench and motioned for Techno to follow him to his room.

-Phil, it’s okay, I didn’t want to get mud on my cloak, I-

-Shush. I don’t want to hear it, I’m sure I have something that’ll fit you. - He dug through his drawers.- Oh, I did the dishes while you were getting the horse. Here!

He handed Techno a long rectangle of soft blue wool weaved with darker blues and whites into a beautiful pattern, and a belt. It might be a bit short for you but it’s better than nothing.

-I’d give you a sweater but I don’t think you could fit in anything of mine with sleeves, so this will have to do.

-It’s okay, Phil, you really don’t need to. I’ll just wear my cloak over it and I’ll be fine.

-Yeah, that should do it. Also have some thick socks and put on your boots, I need my shoes. Go change, I’ll wait for you in the forge with Whorsey all loaded up. Hurry!

As Phil was setting up shop in the main square, the warm smell of fresh bread and pastries filled the air. About two dozen stalls filled with delicious looking food, drinks, beautifully crafted cloth, woodwork and everything the townsfolk could possibly need. Somewhere in the distance someone strummed a simple melody on some flavour of guitar. Philza’s table was covered in a variety of knives, replacements for farm tools, axes, shovels, delicate clockwork, brewery and cooking appliances, beautiful trinkets and some rudimentary works infused with magic such as lighters, endless candles and lanterns, and water filters. The grindstone and other sharpening tools were in the back, resting on a ledge from the arched porch, along with the engraver and blaze powder to quickly fix most magical tools.

Blacksmithry and artificiery were not the first professions that Techno would’ve guessed Phil would take up, but they fit him alright. The old man made no attempts at conversation, and neither did Techno, he dreaded the moment Phil would send him out to run errands as a pretext to meet everyone in town. So he stood there by the arch pillar, draped in his bright red cloak and Phil’s overshirt, warming up and watching his old mentor.

-Hey, Phil! - An extremely tall and lanky teenager waved awkwardly from the outside of the stall. His face was a deep black and bone white, like a patched cat. He had a red and a green eye, not only the iris was coloured, what would have been the whites as well. His hair wasn’t long enough for a ponytail, so he had tied it into a rushed half-up. His clothes were patched up at points but they looked warm. He had a wide smile, that while a bit unhinged and uncanny, was definitely contagious.

-Oi, Ranboo! Here so early?

-Yeah, I didn’t have to chase the chickens back inside this morning. Turns out I remembered to close everything yesterday. Who 's your friend?

-This is Techno, he’s that old apprentice I told you about. Techno, say hi.

Before he had a chance to incorporate, the tall kid was in front of him, extending his hand.

-I’m Ranboo. I have a cool cow and run errands for people, mostly. Phil likes to talk about you a lot.

-I’m Technoblade. - He shook Ranboo’s hand.- Do you always use your cow as an icebreaker?

-I like her a lot. And she’s not a normal cow.

-What, can she recite poetry or something? - Slight tones of sarcasm plagued Techno’s voice.

-Not exactly, but I can’t do that either so I don’t blame her. - The kid smiled apologetically. - Maybe she’ll want to come out about noon. Anyway, I should probably go see if they need me somewhere else, seems you’re covered on errands today, Phil!

-Bye, Ranboo, careful with the ice!

Once the kid was gone to some stall across the square, Phil reprimanded the pigman.

-No need to be so fucking rude, Techno.

-Heh?

-“Do you always use your cow as an opener?” - He traced big sarcastic air quotes.- He really likes his cow, nothing wrong with that. And he’s very helpful, he’s good with tinkering and artificer work and fetches me everything from the shops.

-Okay! Okay! I’m sorry! You know I don’t do well under pressure.

-It’s fine, I don’t think he noticed, or cared at least. Anyway. I’ll give you some money, but you shouldn’t really need it.

-What do you mean I won’t need it? Aren’t you sending me out to run errands?

-Yes, it’s a tiny closed off village, money’s a bit redundant. I give it to the baker for bread, she gives it to the seamstress for a new apron, she gives it to the hunters for meat, the hunters give it to me for tools, and so on and so forth. And since Ranboo does most errands it made even less sense. He just carried the coins from one place to the next.

-What about people from out of town?

-Oh, we charge those fuckers. Can’t expect city folk to keep their word when you only see them once every moon, mate.

-That’s fair, that’s fair. Wait. Aren’t they going to charge me?

-Not with these.- Phil held up one of his bracelets, engraved with hearts. Techno recalled asking Phil to let him wear them all the time when he was training.

-After all these years, I knew you’d eventually give up and let me have them for a bit!

-I want them back and in pristine condition. And tell people you’re my friend before showing them off, prick, they’ll think you killed me for gold.

-Okay, okay. No bragging about my cool new bracelets. What do you need me to pick up as an excuse to introduce myself to everyone in this town?

-Quit whining, it’s not that terrible an excuse. We’ll need the usual soup vegetables from the red tent with the questionable carrot drawing, anything you fancy from there as well, whatever meats you like, some cheap thick cuts for stew, a couple rabbits and we’re running out of honey, so a big bottle. Tell the miners I’ll swing by on monday to check out the new vein. Get yourself something nice from the bakery and a big loaf of sourdough, and a handful of spirit biscuits for me. I think by then you’ll have your hands full already so just come back when you have all that.

-Alright, I’ll try to remember.

-And take the wheeled basket.

-Phil I’m strong enough to carry your groceries.

-Yes but you don’t need to do that, just take it.

-Okay, okay, I’ll take it.

-Have fun out there! - Techno shot him a look that could probably kill. - Shoo! Go! And play nice! - Phil smiled as the pigman walked away dragging the basket.

For such a small town, the market sure was full of people. Phil had only told him where to find the vegetables, not that it wasn’t obvious, with the massive and questionable sign of a carrot over the red stall. Techno navigated his way through the town square and to the shop, and waited for an opening in the frenzy of people. When he finally got through to the front he started to look around for potatoes. It was deep in the winter, so the table was covered in all kinds of roots and some occasional out of season plants that the clerk told him were grown in a glasshouse.

-Ayup, mister pigman, are you new here? - A short and plump woman with tan skin and brown hair held back by a red scarf spoke from behind the table. She reminded Techno of those old city town grandmas that would sit on the streets together as they chatted and knitted, but her voice was big and her mannerisms full of life.

-Yeah, I’m staying with Phil in the forge, he’s sent m-

-Oh, so you’re Tennoblade? He’s been talking about you since last time the mailmen came about. What will you two need for the week?

-It’s Technoblade, with a ch. He wants to make broth, and I want about two dozen potatoes.

-And you’ll feed only from broth and potatoes? - She spoke absentmindedly, as she picked carrots and leeks and other roots Techno couldn’t name from the table. She handed them to Techno from her apron directly into the basket. - Here’s what you asked for, and I’ll give you some more nice stuff and you make yourselves something nice, eh? Don’t want you two starving yourselves, do we? - She laughed and the sound filled the air. She went ahead and gave him a handful of small plants. - Ask him to make you his baked fish and thank me next week, lad.

-Thank you, will do, he is a killer cook. Or he was. - Techno snickered at his own joke.- Did you ever give me your name? I’m terrible at this.

-Just call me Anne, now, about those potatoes. How about I just hand you a crate and you let Phil know I’ll drop by soon? I need my knives fixed.

-Deal, absolutely. - Techno maneuvered it into the basket as best he could.- Where’s the butcher?

-Black cloth, about ten stalls to the right. Have a nice day!

Techno walked around for what felt like hours, from one stall to the next, performing some variation of the above dialogue in each, the butcher’s wife had one of her children go ask Philza about him, Sally the mermaid fisherlass had talked his ear out about the varied water critters in her fish tanks, John from the pickle stall wanted to hear at least one embarrassing tale about Phil, Hunter from the hunting party simply quietly nodded at the sight of Phils bracelets and gave him the meat. At least he said “name’s Hunter”, he could be pulling his leg, but the man seemed drier than the Nether region, so it was highly unlikely. As he pondered, Techno made his way back to the forge’s stall.

It wasn’t as crowded as the food ones, mainly kids, admiring the shinies, who clapped whenever Phil’s tools created sparks. Mind you, Phil’s tools didn’t need the sparks to work, it was simply Phils theatrical side finding an outlet. Sitting on a particularly tall stone cross legged like a tall, lanky and patchy goblin was the kid from before, Ranboo. As Techno began to unload the basket onto the floor the kid unraveled himself and picked up his own basket.

-If you need to run some more errands I can go with you, that way you don’t have to unload everything.

-Hmmmmm, couldn’t you just lend me the basket?

-I have to go to the apothecary, where they sell the herbs and medicines and everything. Phil gave me a list but I have a bit of trouble reading.

-You read?

-Yes, I liked to break into the old library as a kid so Phil taught me a few years ago. I teach the other kids but I still have trouble. Do you read?

-I also write, Phil had me keep a detailed record of what we did every day when he trained me. Good times.

-Sounds fun. What did he train you for?

-Oh, well, you know, war and everything, fighting mainly, man used to be a feared warrior. Dread Philza, Angel of Death.

-That’s a cool nickname, I want to be Dread Ranboo, Something of Something too, “Errand Boy” sounds terrible.

-You don’t want to know what happened to him?

-Man, he arrived with the morning lights, gliding from above among agonising screams, and it took two months of nursing him back to health, last thing I want to do is reopen that kind of wound. Specially out in the market, maybe someday over some stew and booze.

-Fair enough, fair enough. So, about that shopping list.

-Yeah, about the list, where do you need to go?

-Bakery, wherever it is they sell honey and cheese, an-

-Honey and cheese? That’s Puffy’s stall! She’ll be super happy to meet you! She used to be a pirate, you know?

Whatever it was Techno was expecting, it definitely wasn’t what he found. Standing there among the assorted wheels of cheese and honeys of a thousand colors, under the rainbow tie-dyed stall, sat Puffy, decked in a buccaneer outfit sword included. Her name was probably due to her sheep-like, fluffy mane of hair, he wondered if someone had tried to card and spin it. When he noticed fine braids with counts and beads on them, he took it as a yes.

-Ranboo! I thought you were done for the day. And who’s with you?

-I’m Technoblade, I’m Phil’s friend.

-Nice cloak! And headpiece. Do you fight, by any chance?

-Yeah, I used to.

-Oh, shame! I’ve been looking for a sparring partner for ages. I can make do with logs but it just isn’t the same, feel me?

-Oh well, if we’re not going to do any cold blooded murder or major acts of terrorism I guess I could, potentially, be your sparring patner. I mean I’ve only been retired for what? Two days? And I didn’t swear off dueling, just violence, and swordfighting is hardly violent.

-I feel like we have very different understandings of violence. - muttered Ranboo to nobody in particular.

-It’s good to finally have another duelist in town. Drop by any day, it’s the house at the end of the street, by the bee farm, with the big sign that says “keep out, the bees bite”. They don’t, but I found it funny. Ranboo here, lives with me too, he’s good with the bees and cows and goats. Animals in general.

-I let the chickens loose every other day by mistake, don’t lie to the new guy.

-And you chase them all back in, don’t you? What I said, an excellent lad. Now get gathering what Phil likes, I’ll sell the pigman here some goods.

-Uhhhhhh, do you have anything spicy? In the cheese department. I’ll have whatever you think is nice, I’m not picky.

-How about this one? - She slapped a firey orange wheel with red, green and black spots.- It’s not a great hit around here but I make it for myself, it’s got herbs and spices galore. A fan favourite in my old ship.

-Sure, looks great, can you mark it? I don’t want Phil coughing up a storm if he gets his hands on it by mistake.

-Sure thing, bud. I’ll also throw in some of my favourites. And a pot of honey from when Ranboo rearranged the entire garden and the bees tried to use pepper pollen for honey. It’s not half bad but it’s definitely special, you look like the type to make sauces and dressings, I use it for those.

-So, about those sword fights you mentioned.

-If you drop by past noon I can usually leave whatever work I need done to Ranboo. Feel free to come around whenever.

-I’m right here, I can hear you, and I’m done with Phil’s favourites. We’re going to the bakery now so you can stop embarrassing me.

-Oh, can you bring them this lavender honey? For Nikki. -

Again? - Puffy stared back at Ranboo.- Sure thing, yeah. -

Thanks, duckling. -

Puffy! -he complianed -Let’s go, Technoblade, C’mon!

The bakery was easily found by the smell of fresh bread. Techno felt the pang of hunger as he saw the beautiful pastries laying on the table, and he remembered his last terrible gruel meal. Behind the counter, with an apron dusted with flour and a wide smile, stood a pink haired lady mixing some kind of batter.

-Hey, you’re new. - Her voice was soft, but sure and energetic. - Will you be staying long?

-Probably, yeah, I’m Phil’s friend, Technoblade.

-Nice to meet you, then, I’m Nikki. Serve yourself, my hands are kinda busy right now. But if you point I can tell you what each pastry has.

-Hey, Nikki.- Ranboo catched up to him after awkwardly jumping over a puddle.- Puffy sends her regards and yet another jar of lavender honey. Maybe you should tell her about some other things you like. - Nikki chuckled softly at Ranboo’s remark.

-Maybe I should just invite her for dinner again. What do you think, Ranboo?

-Please do. We’re running out of lavender honey.

-Why don’t you bring her that heart shaped loaf over there, the one with the baked in petals, yes, yes, that one.

-Fine, but I’m not your messeng- Ranboo stopped himself mid-sentence and sighed.- I guess I am your messenger boy. On it. Techno, I’ll go by the apothecary by myself, I’ll figure out Phil’s writing on my own. Or not, but I’ll definitely try.

-Thanks, Ranboo. - She turned sharply to face Techno. - So, if you’re helping Phil around you’ll want to grab one of the loaves with the seeds all over them, yes, those ones, and some honeycakes. The rectangular ones, with the dandelions. Tubbs insisted on putting them on top. Yes, those, get three or four, five or six actually, some for you as well. Knowing the old man, he gave you gruel for breakfast, didn’t he?

-Old man things, his weak teeth won’t be able to chew much more. - Techno smiled. - So, this is your bakery, what’s the best pastry you have?

-Well, the one I charge the most for to the valley folks is that one with the mesh and red fruit jam, but that’s just because they’re easily impressed with good jams.

-I don’t want the opinion of the valley folks, as you call them. It’s your bakery, tell me your secrets, which is your favourite pastry?

-All of them are very good, if I say so myself, and even if I have a favourite. My job is to make good pastries whether I like them or not. I’m not a fan of clementines, but for the people who do I sell delicious pies. Let’s try a different route, sweet, sour or salty?

-I have to admit, I have a sweet tooth.

-What’s your favorite jam? I also make things with honey and varied nuts pastes.

-Do you have anything with hazelnuts by any chance?

-Actually, I do, by the apple jam pie and the paté pastries, the one with the lines, yes, yes. Tell me if you like it. Oh! Do you want an in-between?

-A what now?

-An in-between! I cut one of those small loaves over there through the middle and fill it with some variety of cold meat or whatever is at hand. I have boar paté.

-Well that’s awfully close to home.

-Oh, sorry, I didn’t think-

-I was joking, they’re not that close, I’ll have your in-between-bread with distant cousin paté, please.

-So, have you thought about what you’d like to do around the town?- Nikki left the bowl she’d been stirring on the counter and began preparing the bread.- The planting is closing in and we’ll need all hands on deck, as Puffy likes to say. But the rest of the year we have the fields pretty much covered, accidents aside. What do you like to do for fun?

-Well, when I trained I liked to listen to and read old stories. I haven’t got much time to have fun as of late, other than the usual pub crawl and deterring my company from hitting on already suffering barmaids.

-You’ll find plenty of that fun in the brewery. And there you go, your in-between of distant relative. - she winked, and handed it to him. - Anything else?

-I think Phil asked me for Ghost Cookies? It was very early in the morning.

-Ghost Cookies? I don’t carry anything of the sort. But, I do have Spirit biscuits.- Her laughter made Techno chuckle.- With spirit as in alcohol.

-Those will have to do, I guess.

-Very well, there you go. Have a nice day!

Ranboo had already returned with Phil, carrying several glass bottles with assorted liquids and bags with herbs and dried plants galore. The two were chatting as Techno scurried his way back through the square.

-Phil I am never talking to the baker again, and I’m also moving out, I fucked up so bad.

-What did you do this time?

-I called your spirit biscuits “Ghost Cookies”- Philza cackled manically at his friend’s pain.- This is no laughing matter, Phil I am moving out! My shame! You dare laugh at my shame!

-‘s alright, mate, just hand me the goods, I’m fucking exhausted.

Techno gave him the bag, that became emptier and emptier as they packed and loaded the groceries and tools on the horse, and when he couldn’t hold it, on their backpacks. Nikki had had the foresight to be generous with the treats, or by the time they reached home the bag would have been an empty and barren landscape. As they all unpacked and stored Techno could’ve sworn Ranboo moved at an impossible speed, he caught glimpses of purple shiny dust suspended where he had been moments before, but whenever he looked at him directly he’d just smile with that jaw of his and do an endearing little nod. And whatever it was the kid was doing was making the job so much easier he decided knowledge was not worth it’s price this time around. Techno and Phil stood under the doorway, waving Ranboo goodbye and watching him walk away, then and only then, Techno finally spoke.

-I could’ve sworn he teleported, back there.

-Probably, mate, he does that when he’s excited or busy. Did you have fun today?

-It was definitely an experience. I met loads of people. A bit more than I hoped for, maybe. My feet are dying.

-I’m sure it wasn’t that terrible. Why don’t we go inside? You can help me with lunch, and tell me all about this morning, I’ll let you complain all you want.

-Sounds good, sounds good. Hey, Phil, thanks for having me, truly.

-Any day, mate, all help is welcome, and I get to be your teacher in war and in peace.

-Truly poetic, my life’s commitment to narrative parallels never ceases to amaze me. My story begs to be told, it cries to the heavens for a bard to take notes and strum their lute.

-Alright, mate, just hurry inside and get peeling your beloved potatoes.


End file.
